Can't Let Go
by rueswhistling
Summary: Peeta has come out of the 74th Hunger Games, a Victor. At home, he finds a relationship with the girl he has loved forever. But then the 75th Hunger Games comes around, a Quarter Quell serving as a reminder of all the loved ones that citizens had to watch die because of the rebellion, and Peeta must help the girl who got him through the Games, get out of the 75th Hunger Games.
1. Chapter 1

**_Author's Note: Thank you for coming to read my story. This is my first FanFic on this account and I'm really excited! I hope you enjoy._**

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_(Katniss POV)_

Since Peeta's arrival home from the Games a week ago, I have walked past the Mellark's Bakery 26 times. For some reason it was important for me to keep count. I wanted to know how many times it would take me to go past before I saw him, or he saw me. But he's never out in the front; never out like he use to be, smiling as the Town customers pick their cupcakes. Instead the middle Mellark brother stands behind the counter, never as charismatic as Peeta was. Before the Games.

The 74th Hunger Games were hard on District 12. Everyone who had ever heard or been to the bakery knew Peeta and no one had any reason not to like him. The girl tribute was a small 12 year old named Annabelle, who was painfully shy, but when she spoke you had to listen to her soft voice. She was wise beyond her years from growing up in the Seam, yet innocent as a flower and you could see that Peeta made it his personal goal to keep her safe. She made it to the top 5 before the dagger hit her and Peeta wasn't the same.

Truthfully, I was relieved when the girl died, no matter how much she reminded me of Prim or how innocent she was. I knew if it came down to the two of them, Peeta would rather die than hurt her and I needed to see Peeta come home. I needed to say thank you. Thank you for the bread. That didn't stop me from leaving the room whenever they played the clip of the little girl dying. I didn't want to see her life ended and my family seemed to understand.

I knew that was why I paced by the bakery at least 3 times a day. This year's Games were so painful to me because I knew if he didn't come home, I would live the rest of my life filled with guilt, knowing I had never told this boy how something he probably didn't remember saved my family's life.

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_(Peeta's POV)_

_"Peeta, Peeta, don't leave me!' Annabelle screamed, as tears ran down her face and she clutched at her stomach. "You can't leave yet!"__I stared down at her and my lip quivered. "I'm not going to leave you, Anna. I'll stay with you as long-," I stopped. **As long as it takes you to die.** I didn't say it but her eyes showed she knew what I was going to say. I sighed and I moved so I was sitting closer to her as she laid on the ground. I needed to get her mind off of this; off of the reality that laid ahead. "Can I tell you a story, Anna?" She nodded tearfully and I grabbed her hand. I brushed some of the dirt off her face and looked up at the sun, which seemed out of place at such a somber moment._

_"There was once a girl. She lived happily with her mom, dad, and her sister. She loved them more than anything in the world. She had a voice like a bird and a smile like the sun. The girl was poor but she didn't noticed because she was so in love with her family and the world they gave her. But one day, something happened and her dad was lost." Annabelle's eyes were closed now and she breathed through her mouth. I couldn't look at her without sobbing, so I focused my eyes back on the horizon. "The girl's world changed and she suddenly started to see the evil in the world, the evil that took away her father. She hardened her heart towards life and cursed what it did to her." I clutched Anna's hand harder as her breath became shallow and her brow furrowed. I sped up my speaking so she would hear the end. She had to hear the end. Before she- "The girl thought she would die because of her hunger but she was more worried for her sister. She ran through the rain until-" Annabelle pulled at my hand and she opened her eyes. _

_"Peeta," she gasped. "Peeta, look at me." I turned towards her, wiping the tears from my face and trying to hide the fact that I knew she was almost gone. But she knew too. "Thank you. Thank you for everything-" She closed her eyes and winced. "-everything you've done for me. But now you need to let me go so you can win. You have to win and I have to... I have to die." It's the first time either of us had mentioned the word and she seemed like she accepted it. But I couldn't accept it; she was my flicker of hope in the arena. _

_"Annabelle, we can get help," I pleaded. "You just need to hold on for a couple of hours. The other tributes could die by then and-" She laughed, which looked painful but she ignored it. _

_"And then what? You and I are left in this arena. I won't kill you and you won't kill me. So… So I need… need to go now." Her eyes closed and I knew she was right. "Finish the story," she whispered. _

_I cleared my head and thought about what I was even telling her. The girl. "The girl was running through rain and she was filled with hunger and she needed food soon." I spoke quietly so I could make sure I could hear her breathing. "She stopped at a tree and prepared to… prepared to die when she saw-" I couldn't hear a breath. I couldn't hear anything other than my beating heart. "Annabelle. Annabelle, wake up! You need to hear-" A cannon sounded and made its way through the screaming in my ears. I knew but I refused to believe it. I put my head against her chest and tried to hear her heart. There was only a whooshing silence. "Anyway, Anna, the girl reached the tree and she saw that she was in front of a pig pen." You couldn't understand anything I said because of the tears and snot muddling my words and eyes. I heard the hovercraft overhead and saw it coming closer, coming to take my hope away. "The girl sat at the tree and watched the pigs eat and she wondered why it was more important for pigs to eat than her and her family." The hovercraft claw was scooping up Annabelle but I refused to let go of her hand, until it was pulled out of my own. "No! No, you can't do this!" I screamed towards the sky. "Annabelle needs to hear a happy ending! She deserves one and you're taking her away from it!" The hovercraft pulled her through the door and I saw the last wisp of her dark hair disappear. "The girl found bread, Annabelle! She found hope and she lived and her family lived and there was hope, Anna!" I was left alone, screaming at the sky, when they jumped out of the bushes and-_

I woke up with a yell and sweat covering me from head to toe. I couldn't move and I didn't want to. I've spent the whole week in bed, plagued by nightmares but refusing to let go of them. I can't let go of them or her or anything anymore because this is my life and I'm a Victor and I can't let go of my past.

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**Please comment your thoughts and thank you for reading! Next chapter soon... *kiss kiss***


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! Hope you enjoy this chapter! Thank you to all who reviewed, favorited, and followed :) You guys are the literal bomb.**

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(Katniss's POV) Squirrels were the only thing I hunted for all morning. Watching one fall from the limb of an old tree, I knew that I had enough for what I wanted to do but was hesitant to come out from the woods. The fall breeze whistled through the trees, the smell of moist dirt and crisp air soaking through clothes to reach skin and leave them with the scent of autumn. Fall is my favorite season and I wanted to savor the time outside while I had it. The sun shining through the trees stopped me from staying, however, reminding me to leave soon, so not to waste the day.

Hunting for squirrels always led me to the bakery. I wasn't sure how the baker loved the squirrel meat so much but it served many of my purposes, so I never questioned it. The baker's heart was kind, unlike his nasty wife, and I didn't mind selling to him. But today I wasn't going to the bakery for the baker or even to sell all of my fresh kill. The boy with the bread was the main purpose of my visit, and why I went looking for squirrels in particular that morning, even though his face hadn't graced the front of the shop since his return. My heart told me that he was probably in the back, baking; wanting to stay out of the district's limelight, but my head told me that if I had won the Games, I would hide away in my room and try to forget the world. I hoped Peeta was different, however, so that I could finally tell him my thank you speech and quit feeling like my subconscious was constantly kicking me in the bakery's direction. I wanted to feel like I could walk through town without a rush of guilt from the remembrance.

Even though I had been up for hours, hunting and enjoying the weather, I knew it was only morning for most. However, the bakery and I had similar schedules, so I knew that someone would be up and the smell of bread and pastries met my nose to confirm my thought. The baker always tended the shop in the morning but I still made sure to peek in the front window before entering the store, not wanting to stumble upon the Mellark witch. Upon seeing the pleasant face of the baker, I opened the door to the sound of bells and a greeting from Mr. Mellark.

"Good morning," he said with a small smile, while continuing to knead his dough. A man of few words, he was my ideal customer.

"Hello, Mr. Mellark. I was up early this morning, as well as you," I stated and pointed to my game bag, our usual exchange to tell him of the meat I had for sale.

He nodded his head and wiped off his hands on his apron."Ah, I see. You must be tired. Would you like some water around back?" he replied, as usual. I nodded and he replied, "You can head back and I'll bring you a glass in a few minutes," signaling that I'd have to wait by his back door for him to come out, while he made sure the front was tended to so no customer would be left unattended. "

Thank you, sir. That would be good," I said and with that, I headed out the front of the shop and opened the fence that led to the backyard. On my way, I spotted the pig pen which resurfaced memories and guilt, and I prayed that Peeta would be up. I didn't know how much more of these emotions I could take.

I sat down onto the ground by the back door to the bakery and thought of how glad I was that there was a tall fence around the yard. I didn't want any of the Town neighbors poking their noses into the back and thinking a Seam girl was out robbing the Mellarks'. I poked the mud on the ground that surrounded me and heard several thumps and noises from inside the bakery. There was a scuffling by the door and I stood up, expecting the face of the baker to come through the door, when instead I was met by the short, plump figure of Mrs. Mellark. A gasp caught in my throat as she waddled down the steps, carrying two overflowing pails of water, and her beady eyes rested on me. A shocked look spread across her old face, soon replaced by a look of hatred.

"You. You smelly Seam rat. What are you doing in my yard?" Her voice raised in level on every word and soon her face was bright red. "You were going to steal, weren't you? Stick your dirty, selfish hands into my hard earned food and then run!" She set down the pails of water and grabbed a broom that sat by the stairs, pushing me down as she neared me. She raised the wooden handle of the broom and brought it down hard against my arm. I yelped, a hot pain travelling across my arm. "You. Think. You. Can. Take. From. Me?" she questioned, bringing a lash down in every word. I held my tongue and bit down my anger for the first few hits, thinking she would be done, hoping she would get her point across then just make sure I left. "You. Seam. Trash." But she didn't lighten the blows, until I couldn't see straight from her words and her hits. I screamed and didn't stop as I felt more lashes, from my face to my legs. I heard the squeal of the back door and the sound of running, my arms covering my head from the handle. Then there was a different shout, one not from my own voice, and the sound of wood hitting skin, but this time it wasn't my own.

(Peeta's POV)

I saw the broom handle come in contact with my skin, but there was no sting. The Hunger Games had toughened both my skin and my spirit, in that I saw the fear in my mother's blows. They were a cry for power and no longer affected me as they once had.

I stood in front of the girl that lay on the ground and looked into my mother's eyes. She tried to keep her face steady, with a powerful look to her eye, but the outreach of my hand revealed the glint of the fear that she kept hidden so well. Another disadvantage of being a Victor; no matter close you may think you are to someone, they will never treat you the same after seeing you murder someone on television. In this situation it could be a benefit, but after your friends from the before the Games conveniently become too busy to see you after you go through the hardest week of your life, you see life after victory as it is; solitude.

"That's enough, Mother," I said as calmly as I could to her rageful face. I pulled the old broom from her white knuckles and leaned it against the side of the house. Her face stayed the same shade of red and she spit as she spoke.

"Peeta, you cannot defend one of _them_. It was-" she started, but the firm look from my face stopped her.

"You know perfectly well that I_ would_ and _can_ defend one of them," I replied, trying to stay calm at the bitter woman's ignorance. She looked confused at first, then a look of recollection dawned upon her. The Games. Annabelle. She opened her mouth, then closed it again and stomped off towards the back door. It wasn't until I heard the door slam that I turned to look at the beaten and bruised girl covered in mud. Her face was black and blue, and one of her eyes was starting to swell. The same eyes that had pleaded to me with hunger so many years ago. I wanted to reach down and say her name; ask her if she remembered that rainy day, but I didn't want to come off as too forward, in case she didn't remember the day or if she wondered how I remembered it was her under that tree. Truthfully, I could never forget her face through the rain, as well as the first day of kindergarten, which ultimately matched the swelling one in front of me.

Instead I crouched down next to her and smiled, while she just peered at me. "Hey," I said, offering my hand, which she didn't take. "Do you want any ice for your bruises or help cleaning up?"

She looked down at her arms, where some of the rough parts of the wood had scratched and were now trickling thin rivers of blood across her bruises on her skin. She wiped at the blood and looked up at me. "Uh," she started, clearing her throat, "I don't think-"

"It's no problem, really," I butted in. "I want some ice for this bruise and I don't plan on heading back inside to face her right now, so it wouldn't just be for you." I actually couldn't feel a bruise starting to form on my arm but I knew Katniss hated feeling dependent or even asking for help. She opened her mouth to resist again but I was already scooping her up from the ground.

"I'll come, but I can walk," she said bluntly and I knew that that was as good as it was going to get. I set her down outside the fence and watched her take a few steps, a limp forming.

"At least put your arm around my shoulder to take some of the weight of your leg," I said, but her stubbornness practically radiated off of her and she pretended not to hear. "Katniss, come on-," Her head whipped around at the sound of her name and her eyes practically bore into me, as I swore at myself in my head. I knew she was going to ask how I knew her name or how I remembered her, when we've probably had one class together in our lives, but how do you explain to someone that you memorized their gait in the first grade?

Instead, she seemed to ignore it and tentatively put her arm around my shoulder, limping her way down the lane. I put my arm around her waist to take some of the weight off of her leg and I could feel her stiffen at the touch but she brushed it off. "Um," she coughed into her arm and started again. "Um, where are we headed?" she asked, quietly, looking at the dusty ground.

"My house," I responded. Her brow furrowed as she turned to look back at the bakery. "Um, no, my new house. The one in Victor's Village. I haven't actually been to it since it was presented to me at my homecoming. Even then, my mind wasn't completely focused on the house." She smiled sadly at me. "It will be, uh, nice to check it out, I guess," I mumbled.

We turned into the boulevard of Victor's houses, pristine because of lack of tenants except for Haymitch's, which looked rundown with its closed shutters and lack of landscaping. The other houses had flowers blooming and unnaturally green grass, waiting for a fighter to live inside.

My house was right across from Haymitch's and wasn't distinguishable from the empty houses except for a small plaque on the mailbox lined with white blossoms reading, 'Peeta Mellark: 74th Hunger Games'. A constant reminder.

I was hesitant to turn the doorknob and Katniss could see it. "I can clean of the blood with the hose first, if you'd like," she suggested and I nodded numbly. We walked over to the hose and I started the water, waiting for it to warm. Katniss pulled her sleeves up and took the hose to wash the red tint from her skin.

"Um, Peeta?" she asked and I sat down next to her on the grass. "I've actually had to talk to you for awhile." My eyebrows shot up and I turned so I was facing her. I didn't think the Seam girl had thought of me since the day in the rain many years ago. "Well, since you got back. I just…" she looked around and focused on Haymitch's house across the street, as if speaking to it was easier than looking at me. "This Hunger Games was really hard for me to watch just because I felt guilty the whole time. Do you know why?" I shook my head at her question and she looked back at me. "I guess I just felt guilty because of… because of the bread and I thought I would never be able to say thank you. I don't think you realize how vital that was to my family. You taking the risk, throwing the bread inspired me to…" she motioned as if she was looking for the right words, while I stared dumbfounded at what was happening. "You inspired me to do something. To help Prim and to not give up. That bread was more than bread to us. It was a sign that things could get better and that we could make it," she sighed and smiled at her, to encourage her to continue. "I wanted to say something to you to make sure you knew that I didn't take it for granted, but I'm stubborn, I guess." I smiled to myself at this. Katniss Everdeen? Stubborn? Never. "Then you went to the Games and I thought I lost my chance. Couldn't watch without feeling like I owed you something. But you came back and," she chuckled softly, "I walked past the bakery more than twice a day waiting for you to be out. You never were though, so that's what the squirrels were for," she admitted, laughing as she scrubbed her skin. "At least I got to say thanks, right?"

Now it was my turn to look off at Haymitch's and sigh. "Truthfully, I've been in my room since getting back, battling the nightmares. In fact, I only came down to get a glass of water today when I heard the screams outside today. I had been waiting for someone to come visit me; waiting for the motivation of a friend's consolation to get out of bed and face my reality. No one ever came." I raked my hand through my hair, turning to Katniss and studied her face. "You don't know how much I needed this today. Well, not you getting hurt but, I think your thank you will be my inspiration, if you don't mind."

She smiled shyly, pulling her sleeves over her now clean but still purple arms and legs, and looked up. "I'd like that," she stated simply and we left it at that. I stood up and pulled her after me. I took a deep breath and motioned for her to follow me to the door. I turned the knob and I heard Katniss' gasp as the door swung open to reveal the spacious, light-filled house. I smiled at her before stepping inside.

"I think this will be my new home. My fresh beginning."

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**I hope that wasn't too long but i really enjoyed writing this chapter. If you haven't noticed, my story version Katniss is more willing than book Katniss, while still maintaining a bit of the reserve she holds towards others. I tried to make her as believable as possible in this story's context. And in this chapter Peeta and Katniss meet! I love them so much ahhhhh**

**Review, follow, or favorite! It helps me write faster :) Until next time...**


	3. Chapter 3

**_Author's Note: _Hey guys! Sorry, it seems like forever since I've updated but there was just a lot happening in the past few weeks that got in the way of writing. But I'm glad you haven't abandoned me! :) Thank you to all the new favorites/follows/reviews! They really make me more motivated. I'm going to try and start replying to reviews but I always get distracted and forget to. Anywayyyyy, hope you enjoy this chapter! Love yaaaaa  
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_(Katniss POV)_

I nervously shuffled across the Square in the middle of Town, clutching the bag in my hand. I've lived in District 12 my whole life but I still hated the stares I got when I walked out of the Seam. The florist looked over his shoulder at my olive skin and dark hair, contrasting from the blonde heads bobbing around. My week old bruises, just starting to turn from purple to blue, were also an unconscious invitation for others to stare. I tucked a strand of hair back into my braid and stuck my head tall into the air, trying to shake the nerves into confidence. The rough material of the old feed bag scratched across my skin, a reminder of where I was headed: to Peeta's house. I hadn't been there since the events of last week. When I had walked home from Victor's Village, I thought the guilt would be gone and I could go on with my life without having to think of Peeta Mellark. Afterall, we were even; I had given him motivation to get on with his life, and he had given me release from the events of the past, but as I had gone through my daily schedule I couldn't stop thinking of the boy with the bread. I didn't know if what had happened made us friends or acquaintances or what, but I was back to guilt from avoiding him after what he had done for me yet again; he had saved me from his mother. I shuddered at the thought of how far she would have gone if he had not stepped in. That's why I was headed there, more squirrels in hand, with the excuse that I wasn't ready to go back to the bakery, in case he didn't feel the same way about acquaintanceship that I did.

I turned into the boulevard, the neon grass a reminder of the Capitol's presence in our District full of dust and coal. I sighed at the sight of Peeta's open blinds, selfishly wishing he wouldn't be home. The house had a certain homey look to it that contrasted from the empty houses, and especially Haymitch's. I reached the door and knocked slowly. Silence greeted me, then a sound of scampering and the pounding of feet on stairs. I looked down at my mud-covered boots as I heard the swing of the door opening. I slowly lifted my head to see Peeta, looking like he hadn't slept since I last saw him, dark bags under his eyes and bright paint splashed across his sweatshirt.

"Hi Peeta, um, I brought some stuff but you look kind of busy so I can come back later if you wa-," I started, but he shook his head and closed his bloodshot eyes.

"No! I'm just surprised to see you." Another shot of regret shot through me at his words. "Surprised but glad."

"I'm sorry. I should have come earlier. I just-," he cut me off again with a wave of his hand.

"You don't have to make any excuses. I understand. Come in?" He opened the door wider, like a question, and I slipped inside. "What did you bring?"

"Some squirrels. I know your dad was expecting them last week but he never got them," I replied as Peeta lead me through the door. "I couldn't go back to the bakery," I whispered and Peeta nodded silently. We turned into the living room and I looked around. The spacious room was bright and clean but in an unsettling way, like Peeta had never actually sat on the couch or set a glass on the table. The house was like nothing else in District 12 but I knew it probably wasn't much to the Capitol. Still, they made the Victors look like royalty. Like a house could comfort the nightmares.

Opposite of the living room was the kitchen. Despite the starkness of the first, the kitchen looked well lived in, with dishes piling up in the sink and a large refrigerator that looked like it could fit all the food from the Seam into it. Peeta noticed my gaze and chuckled.

"They act like we have use for such amenities. I bet they flew them in without taking a look around the rest of the District. The bakery doesn't even have a microwave and I still can't figure out how to use it. The house should have come with directions." I chuckled in spite of the ache in my stomach at the sight of the room. I wondered if the malnourished that lived only miles away knew this was here.

"It's really quite ridiculous. But at least the baker's son has plenty to cook with," I said, realizing the harshness of my words afterwards. I glanced over at Peeta, who gave me a hurt look. "Sorry," I muttered and I could feel the red spreading across my face.

"Is that what you think?" Peeta asked quietly, hurt obvious on his face. "I grew up eating stale bread and pastries that no one wanted. I only had meat when we bought it from you." I bit my lip and looked up at his face.

"Peeta…" I started but he sighed and ran his hand through his already messy hair. "Do you want to look upstairs?" he asked, changing the subject. I slowly nodded, but didn't move any closer to the stairwell. "Well, come on." He grabbed the bag from my hand and set it on the counter, then started towards the stairs. I heaved a sigh before dragging my feet to follow. I trod up the steps behind Peeta, who moved awkwardly while taking steps. I narrowed my eyes at his legs, confused why they would move so jerkily. I gasped as the glint of metal popped out from under his jeans, where his left leg should have been. He froze and gripped the handle of the step, knuckles white and jaw tensed.

"Not many people know. I'd like to keep it that way, too. I get enough wounded looks like it is," he muttered, before taking another stiff step.

I gulped before trying to form a sentence on my dry lips. "I don't think you should be ashamed. If anything, it shows your strength," I said softly. I didn't know how to word what I felt, but that's as close as I could come. He reached the top of the stairs and his eyes softened when they found me.

"Thank you. Sometimes I only wish it was more," he replied, then turned toward the first door to his right. I was confused by his comment and opened my mouth to reply, but he was already introducing the first room.

"This is the bathroom. Pretty self-explanatory. Doesn't compare to the ones in the Capitol or even the ones on the train, though." He gave me a cheeky smile and I laughed, remembering his interview.

"Hey, Caesar, do I smell like roses?" I imitated and he chuckled. We proceeded to his bedroom, then the second bedroom and the guest room. I stood stunned as we finished the tour. This house was bigger than mine and the Hawthorne's combined, and this one had only one resident.

Peeta prepared to move us back downstairs when I noticed it: a door to the right of the stairs, the only one he hadn't showed me. The door was cracked and light shined through the opening. I took a step towards it, my hand stretched outwards and began to ask Peeta about the room, when a yank pulled me back away from the secret door and into Peeta's chest.

_(Peeta POV)_

"No," I heard my voice say harshly, lacking its usual warmth. "You can't go in that one." Katniss' eyes were wide as they stared up at me, then a flash of anger shot through them as she roughly pulled her arm from my grasp.

She glared at me and took steps away from me, crossing her arms over her chest protectively as she did. "Well, you could have just said something." She turned towards the stairs and stomped down them in a huff. "I'm going to go," she said bluntly as she cut off across my living room to her bag on the kitchen counter. "Thank you for showing me _some _of your house."

I jerked my prosthetic down the stairs as I tried to catch up with her. A grunt of frustration sounded from my throat as it stuck on one of the steps. "Wait, Katniss," I puffed as I struggled against myself. "Wait a second."

Her eyes softened as turned back towards the stairs and a guiltful look took place of the anger. Even if she thought the prosthetic showed "strength", it still made me seem like a wounded animal, always getting sympathy when it was not needed. She sighed audibly and walked back to help me. I was thankful when she stopped at the landing of the stairs and crossed her arms. "If you would hurry up, I would be glad," she said, a small smile playing on her face despite her rough body language.

I chuckled as I pulled my leg down the rest of the flight of stairs until I stood in front of her. "Thanks for sticking around," I said sincerely, which was met by an eye roll. "Could you stay a little longer?" She nodded in response and I smiled. "You can go sit in the living room while I get something to drink." I walked over to the living room and pulled open the refridgerator door. I stuck in my head to grab the carton of milk and pitcher of water, when I heard muffled talking behind me. "What was that?" I shouted, towards the living room.

"Are you sure I can sit on this couch? It's pretty clean," Katniss shouted back at me. I laughed to myself as I pulled the drinks out and turned to face her.

"Of course you can. I just don't usually sit around and chat with myself," I poked back.

She furrowed her brow and looked back at me. "No one has come to visit you still?" she asked and I cringed at the question.  
"Uh, that's a funny story," I started. "You see, my mom was excited when I first told her I was moving into my house in Victor's Village. I was surprised but relieved, until I caught her packing the next day. She assumed that we would _all_ be moving into the house and she wasn't pleased when she learned that I would not be sharing my new home. She, um, forbad my dad and brothers to come see me, saying it was selfish of me to not share my newfound wealth with the people who were 'always there for me', as she put it. So, I've been mostly alone all week. Hopefully, she'll eventually allow me to start working at the bakery again," I explained.

"Sounds like your mom," Katniss said with a half-hearted chuckle. I laughed as a response and grabbed the glasses from the top shelf.

"So, what do you want to drink? I have milk, water, and a bottle that was left in here of Capitol alcohol that smells like varnish and old perfume," I asked, as the smell began to waft into the room.

Katniss' nose crinkled and she laughed, putting a hand up. "I think I'll stick with water."

I brought over our glasses and handed her the water, a little spilling over the edge and hitting the couch with a splat. "Looks like your first party is already staining the couch," she joked, and I splashed a little of my own in response. She cleared her throat, as if to ask for seriousness. She looked into her glass and swirled it around the rim. "But none of your friends have come to visit?" she inquired.

I shuffled my feet, as if squirming would postpone the answer. "Uh, no. They haven't. You're the first person I've seen since last week. That's why I was so surprised when I heard the knock on the door," I replied awkwardly, pulling at the collar of my shirt. "It was a nice surprise though."

"I'm sorry I didn't come earlier. I guess I just assumed you had gone on with your laugh," she said softly. I chuckled inwardly. Like I could ever move on from my past. "I guess the guilt is just never ending with you."

"Don't say that. You don't have any reason to feel guilty, okay?" I said, in all seriousness. I was glad she came today. It was more then anyone in my life had done recently.

She nodded and turned to look out of the dusty window. "Have you been sleeping, Peeta?" she asked suddenly. I rubbed my hand over my face and my evidently red eyes.

"Yeah, I have. My eyes are just from the weather. I get really bad allergies," I lied, concentrating on keeping a straight face. She gave me a skeptical look but didn't ask. I sighed and brought my hand back up to my face. "Okay, I haven't been sleeping the best. The new house and all," I said. Another lie, but I didn't offer more information this time. I couldn't tell her that everytime I closed my eyes, I saw Annabelle's vacant expression.

She nodded again, not fully satisfied but wasn't going to push me. There was a stiff silence covering the room now but I didn't want to shut her out. I didn't know when I'd see her again. "What's your favorite color?" I blurted out, thinking of how much smoother I sounded in my head.

"What?" Katniss asked, confusion evident in her voice.

"Well, I thought that since we're-," I hesitated to use the word friends but couldn't think of a better one. "-friends," I said hesitantly. "Well, since we're friends, I thought we should have to go through the awkward ice breaker questions. You've already given me a death glare but I don't know if you prefer blue over red," I explained, _getting _red as she continued to stare. After what seemed like a lifetime, she answered.

"Green," she stated simply, and I nodded, just relieved that she answered. "Yours?"

She seemed more relaxed now, lazily sprawled across the couch, her glass inches from spilling again. "Orange. Like the sunset," I replied. She leaned her head back as if she was trying the imagine the perfect color and laughed. "What is it?" I asked.

"I'm trying to imagine a sunset orange, but all I can see is the neon orange hair of the announcer at the Reaping," she giggled. I laughed halfheartedly, but it was different when I knew who she was referring to. Effie. I can imagine her hair perfectly as her hand reaches into the bowl to grab a name. She's reading off the name and I'm praying that something has changed and this time it won't be me. She'll say someone else's name, I know she will but I see the P forming on her lips and I get ready to hear my name ring across the Square and I hear it.

"Peeta!"

But it wasn't Effie. It's Katniss, as she shook my arm. "Uh, I'm sorry. I just zoned out for a second," I shamefully admitted. But Katniss knew, so she just kept her grip on my arm and smiled warmly.

"I was just going to ask another ice breaker," she said. "What's your favorite season?"

* * *

**Anddddd scene. **

**Thanks for reading! This isn't my favorite chapter ever because I so often got complete moments of writer's block in the middle of scenes and it just didn't turn out completely like I imagined it :/ butttt it does have some Everlark moments and they're already butting heads like usual. Please please please review! Tell me how I can improve the story or any thoughts. I'll try to update within a week and you have the right to be upset if I don't lol**

**Byeeeee thanks for the support!**


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